


Acclimating

by chameleonCharisma



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, god power shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7026313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chameleonCharisma/pseuds/chameleonCharisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first winter together back in the real world. </p>
<p>In which Dave is a drama queen, Jade stirs up some shenanigans, Rose is amused, and John tries to make cakes not happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acclimating

Dave Strider has had just about enough of Seattle’s “winter” bullshit. Even with the heat (allegedly) on, the Egbert household feels like it’s below-fucking-zero, and he doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last if he has to actually venture out into the elements. Rose Lalonde, thoroughly unimpressed, makes known her exasperation with a flat stare and one elegantly quirked eyebrow.

“Really, Dave, this is exceedingly ridiculous. Get up off of the couch.”

Dave curls his blanket closer around himself. “Cool and cold were never meant to mix like this, Lalonde. If I walk out that door, I am gonna become the raddest fucking popsicle you ever did see.”

“Oh, stop being such an infant. I’ll have you know it gets far colder on the east coast. I don’t see why we should have to cater to your particularly delicate sensibilities vis-à-vis the weather; particularly when Jade’s doing just fine, and she lives on a tropical island.”

They both glance out the window to where Jade and Becquerel are frolicking in the snowy front yard, and Dave frowns, brow furrowing behind his shades. “Jade Harley doesn’t count. Her planet was a frozen hellscape, and she walked around in a fucking skirt.”

John pokes his head out from the kitchen, where he’s been trying to stop his father from baking welcome cakes in addition to making them all hot chocolate. “It’s not even that bad, dude. It’s only like forty out.”

“It was a balmy sixty in Houston this morning, Egbert. I checked.” He shudders. “Feathery asshole Dave would’ve known what was up. Birds fly south because this is bullshit.”

“Dave, seriously—”

“My planet was full of lava, Rose. And I still walked around in a three-piece suit.”

She can’t quite check a smile at this. “I’ll admit, I had assumed that to be merely more ironic posturing on your part.”

Dave tips his chin up, mock-affronted. “You would assume correctly, but my point still stands. It is colder than the deepest depths of the Veil out there, horrorterrors and all, and I’m having fuck-all to do with it.”

Rose is about to retort, when the front door bursts open, letting in a chilly gust of winter air around two wind-ruffled, snow-bedecked figures.

“What’s taking you jerks so long? This is awesome! Hurry the fuck up!” Becquerel barks a sharp agreement, his tail whipping snow across the floor. Dave scowls and burrows deeper into the couch cushions.

“Jade, I love you, really I do. But fuck that noise. I’d rather sit through an all-day Mcconohay marathon—” (“‘McConaughey’,” comes a grumble from the kitchen), “…than stick even one of my dainty, acrobatic-pirouette-inclined feet out that fucking door.” 

Jade, nonplussed, raises an eyebrow. Then she smirks (Rose and Dave have time to think “oh, shit,”) and Bec’s ears prick up sharply.

Dave makes a high pitched, strangled yelp, somewhere between surprise and alarm, and jerks bodily up off of the couch. He yanks the back of his hoodie up and away, and a not insubstantial amount of snow tumbles out onto the living room carpet. Breathing hard, Dave levels a glare at Jade, who grins back brightly as Bec wags his tail.

“Harley, you heinous bitch.” 

Rose has a second to blink and then Dave’s position changes and the snow is gone, and it’s Jade that’s yelping, clawing snow out from the back of her shirt, before it gets redirected back into Dave’s face in a flash of green light.

John, shirt dusted with flour, peeks back out into the living room as Jade bolts and Dave time-skips into his coat and sneakers before tearing out after her, the two of them shouting obscenities all the while. The smell of cake (and defeat) wafts from the kitchen.

“If they freak out my neighbours with their God shenanigans, I better not have to be the one to deal with it. I know I am the friendleader, but dealing with suburban soccer moms is where I draw the line.” He motions into the kitchen. “Hot chocolate?”

Still laughing a bit at their friends' antics, Rose nods. She kindly doesn’t mention the cake.

Outside, a pitched battle rages between the Heroes of Space and Time. While Jade has the ability to throw and redirect both Dave’s and her own ballistics easily, Dave can just as easily time and maneuver himself around her counters, and she often has to dodge volleys of several freezing projectiles at once. 

For a while, the winter air is filled with the trading of laughing, breathless insults while Bec rushes between them, chasing missiles and spraying up snow as he tears around the yard. They’ve each completely forgotten the cold in favour of outdoing the other.

“I’ll have my revenge yet, Harley! There’s gotta be a limit to how much snow you can move at once!” Dave punctuates his jab with another barrage, and Jade dances around it, laughing.

She grins at the challenge. “What, Dave, you think we should grab all the neighbours’ snow, too?” Her loyal partner’s ears perk up, and Jade regrets this choice of words immediately. “Wait, Bec, _no—!_ ”

Too late. The battle comes to an abrupt halt as eight neighbouring roofs’ worth of snow appearifies into the Egbert’s front yard, directly on top of them. There are no words. There is only a proudly wagging tail. Wet and shivering, they decide to call it a day.

As they trudge back into the house, Jade and Dave realize they’ve had an audience. John and Rose prove to be passably good friends, because even though they’re just about crying laughing and have to hold each other up, they greet the war-weary duo with towels and dry clothing. Becquerel sits tall and proud as John’s dad pets his head admiringly. Good dog. Best at snow fights.

“Could’ve warned us about that one, Rose,” Dave mutters as he shrugs into a new hoodie. “Would’ve been real nice to know in advance I was about to get avalanched on by Jade Harley and her Teleporting Hell Dog.”

Rose can barely keep her face straight as it is, so when Dave shoves an icy hand against the back of her neck irritably, all she can do is shriek and collapse back into helpless giggles.

“Objection!” Jade protests, struggling into dry socks. “I got avalanched on too, you fuckass!”

“Well, yeah, but that was basically your own damn fault. Your dog, your problem, Harley. I don’t make the rules.”

The dog in question shakes off his wet fur (hopefully outside somewhere, because it doesn’t spray any of them), and flops down in front of the fireplace, innocent as you please, yawns widely and thumps his tail contentedly against the floor. Jade shakes her head ruefully, but concedes the point.

Eventually they’re cozy and dry again, and John and Rose finally manage to wind down, so they put on a movie. Dave starts shivering at some point, because he really is cold, and timing his assaults means he was out in the snow comparatively longer than Jade. Rose wordlessly huddles into his shoulder, and Jade spreads a blanket across his lap and hers on his other side. John leans back into his legs from his spot on the floor, and Dave can feel the vibration of his voice through his back as he recites every line of Ghostbusters along with the film. Dave kicks him more on principle than out of any real malice, but John just laughs and keeps going.

(About halfway through the movie, one of the neighbourhood association ladies comes ‘round to inquire about the state of the yard, pretending very pointedly that she doesn’t notice the snow missing off eight different roofs. While she vents about rules and regulations to a not unsympathetic Mr. Egbert, Rose mutters under her breath, “Fight me, Helen,” and for whatever reason, this sets all four of them off into fits of laughter, fighting desperately to stay silent, muffling wheezing breaths into each other’s knees and shoulders as they shake with the force of it, trying alternatingly to shush each other and themselves. When Mr. Egbert politely shuts the door on the woman despite her protests, they almost fall off the couch in hysterics.)

Most of the way into the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man fight, Dad Egbert brings them all hot chocolate and freshly baked cake, which even John grudgingly eats, to their surprise. 

“What? It’s Welcome Cake,” he says as they stare at him, says it like it’s not even a big deal, cheeks flushing, smile sheepish. “I mean, what kind of friendleader would I even be if I didn’t show how happy I am to have my best friends here, even if it means eating _this?_ ” 

There is another round of fond kicks at this admission, because even though they are Gods, they are also still teenagers, and that was _some kind_ of sappy bullshit. 

By the time the credits roll, and they’re arguing about what to watch next, not one of them is cold anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Summer is soon upon us here, much to my chagrin. My kingdom for time shenanigans, or at least weather powers.  
> This started a few months ago when I was researching the climates of the kids' homes. And uh. I didn't know southern Texas was basically subtropical! For my non-American readers, 40F is about 4.5C, and 60 is about 15.5, so Dave's complaints are not entirely unwarranted. Not that he wouldn't still complain if they were.
> 
> This story mostly stands alone, but takes place in the same AU as the rest of my works so far, pre-Invasion. I should maybe consider a name for it soon, because this is starting to become A Thing.


End file.
